


As Soon As She Walked In, She Felt The Tension

by fromthedepthsofinsanity



Series: First Line - Homestuck Edition [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Archiveofourown Exclusive, Arranged Marriage, Brothel Setting, F/M, First Line Series, Misery, Runaway!Jane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 01:38:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5520578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthedepthsofinsanity/pseuds/fromthedepthsofinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane Crocker, former heiress, current Lady-of-the-Evening, really wishes things didn't fall into place like they had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Soon As She Walked In, She Felt The Tension

As soon as she walked in, she felt the tension. She’d been gearing herself up for this moment, but the anxiety nearly crippled her. They had taught her though; they had taught her how to smile, to giggle, to flaunt, to flirt, and to scoot anything unpleasant under the bed with a discreet foot. Jane didn’t think she was doing so bad, even if she trembled and cried inside herself. 

But really, how had she been picked so soon? She was fresh into blossom, to coin the term, and on her first night, here she was, being pointed at, being selected out of the lineup of two dozen women all smiling and giggling as she was. She hadn’t even been able to tell the customer the name she had picked out for herself. It was for the best, she supposed. Bluebell wasn’t exactly flashy or sexy. 

She had taken him by the hand, just as the Madame had told her to, just as all the girls she had seen had done to others, and led him down the endless hallway of red everything and dim lights. Jane wondered, could he feel her hands shake just the slightest? Could he tell she was about to cry? Could he sense how scared she was of losing what little bit of innocence and dignity she had to a complete stranger? 

She wished she could see his face, if only to gauge his exact emotions, but the rabbit mask obscured everything, and his perfect, cupid bow lips were set firmly. The shaded eyeholes wouldn’t reveal even a sliver of information, not what he himself was feeling, if anything, or even the color of his eyes. 

That was the whole point of The Masquerade Garden, to be completely anonymous, to be lost amongst the wildflowers, to be swept away by the melodies of songbirds and not be judged by your sins or features. The Blossoms would care for you, bathe you in their wonderful scents, and lull you into a soothing aromatic bliss. 

That’s why many a rich folk came for miles around to sample the nectars fresh off dripping, eager petals. No one even knew who they were, what they did, where they came from; they could go back to their lives, their wives and husbands, their children and families, and none would be the wiser. Only The Vines would know who roamed The Garden. 

Jane couldn’t give a fuck who he was; she just wanted to run and hide. But she needed the money so badly. This was all that was left. 

She rested against the door, gave him a smile, and turned the knob, letting the entrance swing open behind her with nary a creak. She led him in, he closed the door, and she released him. They were covered in darkness, but only for a moment until she flicked on a lamp. A barely satisfying glow chased away enough shadow to reveal shapes and color. 

They were in the Briar Rose Room. Black and thorned vines ran tracks over the sunset-sketched walls and grass-green carpet, looking very menacing and real in the dimness and shadow, but were no more than a cheap bit of piping and paint. The only bit of any worth was the ivory-and-periwinkle bed set neatly done up across the golden canopy frame. Rose petals were scattered about, perfuming the air, and candles stood at attention, waiting to be lit. Jane wasn’t one to make them wait for much longer. 

She struck a match, and one by one, they flared to life, decorating her skin in their flattering glow. It gave her something to focus wholly on, at least until the question in her throat clawed its way out. 

“So, before we begin, there is some negotiating,” She was so proud that her voice still held her practiced allure, “The standard is five-hundred for fifteen minutes, and that’s just for the basics. If you’d like something different, I’m open for suggestions.” 

“I’d like an hour,” He said simply, and she tensed. 

It was a shock to hear him speak. She had only heard him speak one word in the foyer and it was garbled amongst the giggling. The deepness of it, the dominating certainty and commanding tone, made her heart drop and blood run cold. She didn’t turn to him though and finished lighting the rest of the candles. When she collected herself, she turned to him with a smile. 

“Sounds perfect to me,” Jane smoothly stately. With exaggerated strides, she moved toward him, “How would you like to start then? I’m all yours.” 

Her fingers found the collar of his jacket and moved with a mind of their own down to the onyx-colored buttons, prying one loose without struggle. She moved to the next, but his hands caught her wrists like sprung traps. A gasp and jerk was ripped from her without consent. That slightest bit of fear got away, and she vied against it, trying desperately to cage it again. 

“I’d like to,” He whispered close to her cheek, “Just talk, if you don’t mind.” 

She nervously licked at her lips and nodded. What else could she do? 

He guided her back to sit on the edge of the bed, and he took his place next to her, “You’re heels are bothering you. You should take them off.” 

Again, she nodded, toed off her shoes as if she was a master of them, and sat rigidly next to him. What was he playing at? He was seriously going to spend two-thousand on an entire hour just to speak to her? She found it hard to believe, but could do nothing to quell whatever hateful rage that may be coming her way. 

“So, what’s your name?” 

“Bluebell,” She stuttered. At least, she caught herself before she could say ‘Jane.’

“How old are you?” 

To this, she let out her practiced giggle, “Old enough, Sweet Thing. Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady her age?” 

“Sorry. Left my fucking manners back home.” 

_ Back home _ . Two words completely tore her up inside. She could never go home. She didn’t have a home anymore. To cover her sadness, she leaned back onto her palms, showing every inch and bit of her body, laying all bare to him. Jane wished she had one or two more glasses of wine with the girls at that damnable party downstairs. She’d like to be a little looser and a lot happier. 

“Everyone forgets them somewhere, but that’s alright. I forgive you,” She giggled with a radiant smile, “Are you stalling, Sweet Thing? You don’t have to be scared,” Take your own advice, Jane, “It’s just you and me alone together,” And scared absolutely shitless, “I won’t bite. Unless, that’s something you’d like?” 

“You from around here?” 

“I live here in The Garden. It’s where flowers go to bloom, you know.” 

“I meant before.” 

Jane pursed her lips in mock-irritation, rose, and sighed dramatically, “There’s not much to say about whatever before was. I live here, and thus, yes, I am ‘from around here.’” 

“Your accent’s a little off. Made me wonder.” 

Jane nearly scoffed, but masterfully repressed the reaction and turned to wink at him instead, “Not every bloom is the same as the next, Sweet Thing. Would you like some wine?” 

She didn’t wait for his answer and crossed the room in four long steps. Quickly, she retrieved glasses and her favorite white amongst the selection, popped the cork off, and poured equal amounts into each shimmering crystal stem. She held it out to him, and he took it emotionlessly. Jane couldn’t swallow the pale liquid fast enough. He paid it no mind and set it to the side. 

“So you’re just peachy fucking keen here then?” 

She laughed, “Of course, I am!” Not, “Do I look really unhappy?” You’re oozing it, “I’m sorry,” Don’t apologize, “I should really smile more for you,” Why? He doesn’t deserve it, “You just catch me off-guard at every turn. It’s hard to smile and be surprised at the same time.” 

She filled her glass and again downed it. It wouldn’t be long now. Already, the edges of her vision were just the tiniest bit warm and fuzzy. She could force relaxation and get through this. It was just like going on a rollercoaster for the first time; survive it once, and the times after were all too easy. He just had to give her a chance and stop jerking her around. 

Maybe that was his game. Maybe he lulled the Blossoms into total ease before striking, overpowering those he didn’t need to overpower, and broke them mercilessly. They were already less. What was the point? 

“You’ve been smiling enough.” 

“Oh, good,” She breathed in relief. 

“But I don’t really give a fuck about your smiles.” 

Her stomach dropped. She had known the change was coming, but even still, it frightened her. Jane bit her lip, hoping that the gesture came off more as shy rather than nervous and scared. 

“Would you like to hear a secret?” She asked, and he gave only the slightest nod, seemingly intrigued and without anger for the moment, “I was only a Bud yesterday. You are my very first customer as a Blossom.” 

If that didn’t stroke him in all the right ways, nothing would. What man wouldn’t love to be a Blossom’s first, let alone any woman’s? That’s what every male dreamt of doing, molding a virgin woman into responding to the way they fucked and ruining her for all other men, right? 

She sauntered closer to him, letting the glass fall from her fingers and hit the carpet with a dull thunk, and straddled his lap. Her petal-like skirt skittered up her thighs, and her breasts pressed against his chest with earnest. Up close, she could smell the faintest bit of his natural scent, and somehow, it eased her. It tickled something in the back of her mind, but she pushed it away. Jane didn’t have time to entertain anymore bullshit from her emotions. 

“It’s already been fifteen minutes,” She whispered into his jaw, “Are you sure you want to waste anymore time with this boring run-around? I don’t like being interrogated, and I know my answers aren’t very exciting.” 

Gently, she placed a kiss at the junction of his neck and jaw, and he unconsciously moved to expose more to her. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. She kissed that as well. 

“You’re really determined to see this through, aren’t you?” 

“Well, you are paying me, Sweet Thing, and I don’t really enjoy being paid for nothing,” She deftly began freeing the rest of his buttons from their holes, “If it helps, just think of it as me choosing you to break me in. This night is my initiation, after all, and I’d like it to be fantastic. You look more than capable of doing me right. I’ll look back on this moment and think, ‘Mmm, still not as good as he was.’ Wouldn’t you like that?” 

For a moment, Jane was afraid by how quiet he had become. She had screwed up. She’d talked too much. She’d ruined his fantasy. He was going to walk out and complain to the Madame and she’d be back to square one. No food, no clothes, no roof over her head all loomed in her very near future. Her heart thudded in her chest and threatened to explode out of her ribs when he finally spoke. 

“Fuck it,” He murmured and even kissed the shell of her ear, taking her completely by surprise, “GFE, though.” 

Her lips thinned.  _ Girlfriend Experience _ . First customer, and already she was getting a hard-to-swallow request. Thankfully, she knew how to respond, and she supposed his request could be much worse.  

“That’ll be extra,” She smoothly replied, “Are you alright with that?” 

Without hesitation, “Yes.” 

“Alright then,” She wanted to sigh, “GFE, it is.” 

Her arms wrapped around his neck, a giggle escaped her, and their lips touched, sealing the deal. She wanted his lips to be as cold as ice and his tongue to be forked and repulsive, but the more they kissed and molded to each other, the more she relaxed into the show. Whether it was the alcohol barely buzzing through her or how incredibly gentle he was being, she couldn’t say. The probability of it being both was astronomically high, however. 

His fingers found her hair first and pulled out the pins holding her curls up and out of the way. Her locks fell in perfect ringlets past her shoulders. She hadn’t ever allowed the dark rivers of thick chaos grow so long. She hated it, but far too many had told her how distinguished and vintage she looked for her to change it. Who would be looking for Plain Jane Crocker in the guise of a distractingly attractive woman? Who would be looking for Plain Jane in a brothel for that matter? 

Her arms bent to embrace him, and her thighs tightened at his waist. She was in too deep to back out of the charade. She would be getting paid far too much to let it pass her by. She could afford month’s rent on that little apartment for which she had desperately fought; she might be able to squeeze in basic cable in too if she was especially careful. The thought of all that and more made her positively pink with giddiness. 

Though, all the possibilities vanished quickly as he broke away to attack her neck at her collar. Without wanting, she gasped and tugged just slightly at his golden hair. Oh, this was bad. It was starting to feel good. If she wasn’t careful, her facade would be shattered. Jane Crocker couldn’t risk severing the thread holding her to her freedom, as heartbreaking and survival-testing as it may be. She needed to reel herself in quickly. 

But she couldn’t think of one single way to do just that. The zipper of her dress was being pulled down her back to the base of her spine, exposing more of her creamy skin. The straps were following the zipper’s lead, slowly slipping from her shoulders to cup her biceps in a loose embrace. He moved with the cloth, slithering down her lazily, taking the swooping collar in his teeth and tugging down, and revealing the lacy white bra holding her straining breasts at bay. 

Her nipples hardened against the soft silk under his scrutiny, and she blushed the slightest strawberry pink from the roots of her hair to her freckled chest. He stared, and she tried not to focus on the intense burning his gaze was causing. To do so, she stood, slipped her arms out of the straps’ hold, and let her dress fall to a crinkly, glittered hoop at her feet. Nothing but her matching ivory panty set separated her nudity from his gaze. 

And it did roam. 

Despite not being able to see the movement of his eyes, she knew every last inch of her was being examined. He beckoned her forward as he stopped at the curve of her hip. She barely moved when his hand found the roundness and thumbed at the ink there. 

“It’s cute,” He murmured. 

She pursed her lips to keep from smiling hysterically, “Thank you.” 

The tiny cupcake had been a spur-of-the-moment gift. Her twenty-first birthday had been spent bar-hopping with her best friend Roxy that somehow turned into a prowl for a tattoo parlor. They had gotten the tiniest bit of ink, hers a happy, little cupcake, Roxy’s a half-full, pink martini, and Roxy had paid for it all. Jane wouldn’t admit to not remembering the night aside from waking up with the tattoo the next morning in their shared hotel room. 

Still, despite the lapse in her memory, it had been a good time. Better times. 

He pulled her back to reality as he coaxed her to straddle his lap again. Her wrists crossed behind his head, her nose gently brushed his, and their lips hesitantly danced between staying apart and reuniting. Jane decided to press forward, to overcome her hesitance, and once again fell deeply into a sloppy makeout session with the stranger. His arms coursed over her bare back and held her tightly to him. She must be doing something right. Why else would he cling to her so desperately? Was he feeling the same way she was now? 

It didn’t matter. He was only a customer, and she just needed to act the part, even if it stirred her up completely inside. 

Without warning, he switched their positions. As her head hit the pillow, she became very aware by the amount of clothes he still wore. She could have kicked herself. It was her job, should he want it, to strip him bare and lead him the rest of the way through the winding path of pleasure through The Garden; or, at least, that’s what she had been told. 

He once again broke their feverish kissing to bury his face into the crook of her neck. His embrace tightened, and she had a moment of panic as her chest strained against the confines of his arms. When the pain and shortness of breath never came, she relaxed again, stroked his hair, and moved her head to lay bare the length of her neck. He placed a single kiss on her racing pulse and nothing more.

Minutes passed without any change. Jane was pinned under his harder, broader frame, completely at his mercy, and he showed no signs of moving on. She relaxed the tension in her arms, and in confusion, she gently patted his back with a breathy laugh to dispel the increasing awkwardness. 

“You don’t have much time left, Sweet Thing,” She whispered into his ear and kissed it, “We should move this along. Don’t want to keep me waiting, do you?”

“I’ve missed you, Jane,” He spoke clearly into her skin, “Please come back.” 

The world iced over. He just said her name, her  _ actual _ name. She hadn’t heard wrong. He had stated it too perfectly, with too much clarity to be anything other than what she had heard. Her ribs were being bruised by her thudding heart, and her fingers knotted the back of his jacket. 

She hated the moments following. When he looked up from her collar, taking every terrified line and scared tremble in her face, she nearly fell to bits. Jane couldn’t stop herself as she mechanically pulled her hands away from him and cupped his mask between her shaking palms. She didn’t want to see, but at the same time, desperately needed to. She didn’t want to believe someone she knew had found her after nearly three years, but the evidence was all right there. 

The gray rabbit mask was pushed up his forehead and over his blonde locks, and fell gracelessly from her fingers to tumble off the edge of the bed. Jane didn’t even have it in her to gasp. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she already knew what she would see. 

His eyes were the color of tangerines and were so bright in the casted shadows. They wavered and danced like candlelight and drilled straight through her into her center where the scared, unhappy Jane still resided. 

The breath she didn’t realize she was holding left her in a rush and was quickly replaced by a hasty, desperate inhale. She pulled her hands and arms close to her as if he burned, but she couldn’t escape him. He still had her pinned and his frame, his whole being, trapped her in every way. 

“Oh, my God,” She felt faint and frenzied and everything inbetween, “Oh, my God!” 

“No, but close enough.” 

He still came with jokes. It just made her feel worse. Jane’s hands covered her face. If she blocked it all out, it would go away. She was having a terrible, terrible nightmare. She got drunk at the party, no man ever pointed her out, and she would wake up on her flat mattress alongside the rest of the Buds with the Madame hovering in wait to scold her. 

“Jane-” 

“It’s Bluebell!” She shrieked into her palms before she could stop herself, “My name is Bluebell!” 

He said nothing in reply and listened to the first of many heart-stabbing sobs rattle out of her. Jane just wanted to curl up and die, but she couldn’t even manage that with Dirk still laying on her. 

“Why now?” She cried, “This isn’t right! Out of all the people, out of all the places-” She coughed, and tears ran down the sides of her face, “Why?” 

Dirk grabbed her wrists and pulled them away from her face. Her tediously-applied makeup ran the tracks her tears had paved, and already her eyes and cheeks were aflame with red. Jane fought against him, desperately trying to get loose from his hold, and let her rage consume her along with her grief. She didn’t want Dirk to see her cry. She never let anyone see her upset before; not even Roxy had seen her lowest. He didn’t have the right. 

“Get off me!” She raged, “And let me go!” 

“I’m not going to.” 

“How dare you?! How fucking dare you!?” Jane roared. She didn’t care if anyone else heard. In fact, she might even relish in one of the  _ Gardeners _ busting in and taking him away, “I can’t believe-! I said all those things to you, and you just sat there like a statue and watched! Was it funny to you, Strider?! Was it funny to see me act how I did, take off my clothes, try to seduce you?! How long have you known I was here?! How did you even find me! No one’s found me in years!” 

But just as her rage began to bubble, it just as quickly began to cool. She huffed and wheezed, choking on her own ire and sadness and coughing it all back up. 

“Stop staring at me,” She finally said after long moments of crying and trying to catch her breath, “All you’ve been doing is staring. I’m just an exhibit to you, aren’t I? ‘Come See Jane! The World’s Biggest Try-Hard!’” 

“You aren’t a  _ try-hard _ .”

She hiccuped and tried to swallow down her stutters, “Get off me.” 

“We’ve been looking for you,” Dirk said softly, as if she wasn’t a mess, as if she hadn’t been yelling and fighting and cursing and crying, “Roxy, Jake, and I, we were all looking, and we could never find you. You just fell right off the face of the Earth.” 

“I didn’t want to be found,” A pathetic whimper. Her eyes closed to blot it all out. She couldn’t handle her own sadness, let alone Dirk’s. 

“I know you didn’t. All three of us knew, but,” He paused, reaching up, trusting her not to lash out again, cupping her face, and wiping at the gray lines painting tiger stripes on her cheeks, “That didn’t stop us. Three years. All we thought about was finding you and bringing you home.” 

“I can’t go home.” 

“Yes, you can.”

“I don’t want to go,” She coughed, “I can’t do it.” 

“You’re stronger than this. You can’t let a rejection tear you down.” 

She hiccuped more, “It’s bigger than just Jake, Dirk.” 

“You didn’t have to marry anyone you didn’t want either. You could have come to us, Jane. Any one of us would have taken you in, kept you hidden away. You don’t need to do everything alone.” 

“Oh, God,” She whined and covered his hands with hers. How did they know about the arranged marriage? Did they know about the terms? The company? The responsibilities and the deals? Just how many kids in exact increments she needed to pop out in order to keep the marriage binding and things in her favor? They must; at least, Dirk knew all, just as he always had, “How’d you find out? How did you know where I even was?” 

“Roxy,” He said, as if all was explained, “But, I’m the one that found you. All I had to do was wait. I knew some trace of you would pop up somewhere, and I was right.” 

“What was it?” 

He hesitated a moment, “Your credit card. You hadn’t used it in so long, and then a charge popped up. You must have really needed the money to risk it.”

Jane shook her head and bit her lip to keep it from quivering more than it already was, “I knew it was an awful idea. I told myself it’d been long enough, that no one would even notice. I should have known better.” 

“I’m glad you didn’t.” 

Her anger flared briefly, but it was quickly squashed, “So, what? You just took the first plane out of Houston, flew to Nevada, and just started jumping from whore house to whore house?” 

“I didn’t fly. I dumped Dave on Jake, and I drove,” Jane deflated and felt terribly guilty. It was a twenty hour drive at best, and Dirk dropped everything to ride it out, “And your landlord was the one to point me to the brothel. I was going to wait at your apartment, but,” He trailed off. It made Jane open her eyes finally, “I couldn’t do it. I wanted to see you, make sure it was really you.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come clean immediately,” Dirk continued, “And I’m sorry I put you in this position, but I didn’t want you to run again. I needed to trap you. It was the only thing I could think of. Even if it backfired like shit always does, I had to do it. I missed you, Jane.” 

She let out a wet, stuttering giggle, “Well, shucks, buster.” 

A laugh escaped him before he could stop it, “What did I tell you about your fucking mouth?” 

They shared quiet chuckles and sweet closeness, but the silence in the room quickly crept back, bringing with it a fine sheen of fresh misery. Jane’s hands gripped his harder briefly before slithering up his arms and across his shoulder blades to embrace him once again. 

She buried her face into his neck, breathed in the barely-there scent of orange fizz and metal, and began to cry anew. She cried out every bit of misery, staining and ruining his pristine, white jacket forever with her tears and smudged makeup; she cried as if she’d never had an outlet for her sadness before, which if she was to think hard on it, she hadn’t. Her hands all but burrowed into him, refusing to let go even if the Almighty came to pry her from him. 

And he held her. He could do nothing less. It was what he wanted to do since seeing her in that damned lineup in the foyer. He wanted to rush to her, hug her tight, and run off with her slung over his shoulder, uncaring of how much shit he stirred up in the process. It was the first time in a long while that he was wholly going to throw himself into discord and loss of control. He was glad he didn’t. He didn’t think he would be holding her like this otherwise. 

“I missed you so much,” She managed through wracking sobs, “I’m so glad you’re here!” 

He pulled her to sit up with him, never breaking their desperate hug and even tightening it, and kissed her temple. It was all a matter of getting her to leave with him now, to go home with him and put all this behind her. Dirk went to stand and carry her from the room when she looked up from his now soaking shoulder. 

Despite himself, he smiled at her. She looked more like Jane now. All that was missing was her trademark glasses and short hair. He reached up and coiled a curl around his fingers. 

Jane let out a shaky breath and shook her head just slightly, “I hate it.” 

“I do too.” 

Jane coughed out a laugh, “I’m so glad! Everyone’s only ever told me how much they like it.” 

“You’ve lost a lot of weight,” He mentioned, dipping into more concern and sobriety. 

“I haven’t eaten well in months.” 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner.” 

He didn’t let her reply. He didn’t want to hear how things weren’t his fault and how he couldn’t have known. He knew most everything at any given moment; it was his modus operandi. Dirk surged forward and mashed their lips together. Jane didn’t resist, but neither did she fall headlong into the distraction he offered. 

It was nice, knowing exactly who she was kissing and sorting through emotions that she could identify as pleasant without feeling filthy. Though, she could exactly say guilt was swept away. 

When their kiss came to a consensual end, she spoke, “You don’t have to keep up the act. I’m pretty sure GFE is off the table.” 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, Jane.”

Despite herself, she felt her face warm with more than just latent sadness. He wouldn’t be able to see the blush through the red caused by her crying. 

“You have?” She swallowed and tried to calm her fluttering heart, “I’m sorry, Dirk. That was awful of me to say-” 

“Don’t get apologetic on me now, Crocker. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” 

She parted her lips to speak, but was shocked into stopping. A tingling, like the melody of bells, rang in the near-silent room, causing them both to tense as their bubble was popped by outside noise. Jane looked over to the flashing electric timer near the candles. She had forgotten she’d even set it, and regretted it. Turquoise met tangerine in a mutual glance of wait. He waited for her next move, and she his. 

“Come home,” He finally said, running his hands over her sides and raising a crop of goosepimples over her body, “Please.” 

“Dirk-” 

“You don’t have to go back to Washington. You can come to Houston with me, or I’ll get you a flight to New York to stay with Roxy,” Dirk’s hands shook minutely as he fought the urge to grab her and shake her into understanding. Why was she so stubborn, so resistant all the time? “Don’t say you want to stay here.” 

“I don’t.” 

A knock on the door jolted them just as badly as the timer. Jane’s grip on his tightened as she gasped and jumped; he mimicked her, protectively coiling his arms around her and rising from the bed. 

“Is there a problem?” A voice came through muffled. 

“N-no,” Jane meekly replied, cleared her throat, and tried again, “No, Hearts. We’re just finishing up.” 

A growl, sounding something like a disturbed dog, rumbled through the wall as he moved on. Jane sighed, disentangled herself from Dirk, took a few steps away from him, and hugged herself. She was suddenly painfully aware of how clothesless she was and became very self-conscious. If she had the opportunity, she would have laughed. It seemed like so long ago that she was self-conscious for the exact opposite she was now. She was never a slim girl in the past, and now standing in front of Dirk with her ribs straining against her skin, she was more unhappy with her body than ever. 

He noticed. Of course, he noticed. Dirk leaned down, picked up the white-and-blue Baby Doll dress she’d abandoned, and held it out to her. It was a parody of her old style, and Dirk hated it with everything he had in him. He had no doubt that she would wear it well given any other situation, but he could do nothing more than wait for her move and loathe every scrap of fabric in his fist. 

Jane rubbed her arms and bit her lip. Dirk saw it, the slightest nod in finality as the links in Jane’s head snapped together to form a chain. He watched as she moved forward and grabbed the dress from his hands, and his heart sank. 

“May,” She tried, but failed. Taking a deep breath, she released it slowly and began again, “May I have your jacket, please?” 

He could deny her nothing, even as he stewed and stirred inside. It slipped from his shoulders as if it was sick of him, and Dirk held it out to her. To his surprise, the dress fell from her fingers, and she quickly wrapped his jacket around her. Just as rapidly, she buttoned it up and went back to holding herself. She couldn’t look up and catch his eye. 

It felt good to be in something of his; it felt right to be completely surrounded again and comfortable in clothing. She stared down at her wrinkled dress and viciously kicked it, sending it tumbling into the darkness under the ridiculous canopy bed. 

“I don’t want to wear that,” Jane licked her dry lips, “When I walk out.” 

Every part of Dirk softened, and a tiny smile pulled at his lips. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked to the door.

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't as hardcore DirkJane as I wanted it to be, but it's still satisfying, I think. 
> 
> Just to give some clarification, this fic is part of a series that I'm doing called the First Line Series. I'm participating in it as a self-imposed challenge. I found an online first line generator and decided it would be a brilliant idea to A.) use forty of them for four different fandoms to create ten fics per series and B.) force myself to write continuously without going back to plan, edit, reread, or even scrap the entire work until I felt I had reached the end. I want to see how well I do with stream of consciousness and test my own knowledge. As a result, this is wildly unedited (as the rest will be) and very spur-of-the-moment. So I apologize for any choppiness, spelling, grammar, and/or continuity mistakes. 
> 
> The works in this series won't have titles befitting of the story presented, but instead be the first line in the story. I've done this just to help keep myself moderately organized. Maybe when I've completed a series, I will go back and adequately name them. The chances of that are extremely low however. 
> 
> Putting all of my boring explanations aside, if at any point you wish to have me continue ANY of the one-shots I post in the series, **please** let me know. I can most likely work many of them into a multi-chapter fiasco worthy of parties and festivals in their honor. 
> 
> So, I do hope you enjoyed what you've read, and I hope you look forward to reading more. Thank you!


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